THE GENUINE ACTS OF PETER

ARCHBISHOP OF ALEXANDRIA

PETER

THE GENUINE ACTS OF PETER.(1)

Were all the limbs of my body to be turned into tongues, and all the joints
of my limbs to utter articulate sounds, it would noways be sufficient to
express who, how great and how good, was our most blessed Father Peter,
Archbishop of Alexandria. Especially incongruous do I consider it to commit
to paper what perils he underwent by tyrants, what conflicts he endured
with Gentiles and heretics, lest I should seem to make these the subjects
of my panegyric rather than that passion to which he manfully submitted
to make safe the people of God. Nevertheless, because the office of the
narrator must fail in narrating his inmost conversation and wonderful deeds,
and language is noways sufficient for the task, I have considered it convenient
to describe only those exploits of his by which he is known to have attained
to the pontificate,(2) and after Arius had been cut off from the unity
of the Church,(3) to have been crowned with the martyr's laurel. Yet this
do I consider to be a glorious end, and a spectacle of a magnificent contest,
sufficient for those who do not doubt of a truthful narration, which is
unstained by falsehood. In commencing, therefore, our account of the episcopate
of this most holy man, let us call to our aid his own language, in order
that we may make it co-operate with our own style.

Alexandria is a city of exceeding magnitude, which holds the first place
not only among the Egyptians, but the Thebans also and the Libyans, who
are at no great distance from Egypt.(4) A cycle of two hundred and eighty-five
years from the incarnation of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ had rolled
round, when the venerable Theonas, the bishop of this city, by an ethereal
flight, mounted upwards to the celestial kingdoms. To him Peter, succeeding
at the helm of the Church, was by all the clergy and the whole Christian
community appointed bishop, the sixteenth in order from Mark the Evangelist,
who was also archbishop of the city. He in truth, like Phosphor rising
among the stars, shining forth with the radiance of his sacred virtues,
most magnificently governed the citadel of the faith. Inferior to none
who bad gone before him in his knowledge of Holy Scripture, he nobly applied
himself to the advantage and instruction of the Church; being of singular
prudence, and in all things perfect, a true priest and victim of God, he
watchfully laboured night and day in every sacerdotal care.

But
because virtue is the mark of the zealot, "it is the tops of
the mountains that are struck by lightning,"(5) he hence endured multifarious
conflicts with rivals. Why need I say more? He lived in persecution almost
the whole of his life. Meanwhile he ordained fifty-five bishops. Meletius
lastly--in mind and name most black--was made the schismatical bishop of
the city of Lycopolis, doing many things against the rule of the canons,
and surpassing even the bloody soldiery in cruelty who, at the time of
the Lord's Passion, feared to rend His coat; he was so hurried on by giving
the rein to his madness, that, rending asunder the Catholic Church not
only in the cities of Egypt, but even in its villages, he ordained bishops
of his own party, nor cared he aught for Peter, nor for Christ, who was
in the person of Peter. To him Arius, who was yet a laic, and not marked
with the clerical tonsure,(6) adhered, and was to him and his family most
dear; and not without reason: every anireal, as says the Scripture, loves
its like. But upon this coming to his knowledge, the man of God being affected
with grief, said that this persecution was worse than the former. And although
he was in hiding, yet, so far as his strength permitted, directing everywhere
his exhortations, and preaching up the unity of the Church, he strengthened
men to withstand the ignorance and nefarious temerity of Meletius. Whence
it came to pass that not a few, being influenced by his salutary admonitions,
departed from the Meletian impiety.

Nearly
about the same time Arius, armed with a viper's craft, as if deserting
the party of
Meletius,
fled for refuge to Peter, who at the request of
the bishops raised him to the honours of the diaconate, being ignorant
of his exceeding hypocrisy. For he was even as a snake suffused with deadly
poison. Yet neither can the imposition of hands upon this false one be
imputed as a crime to this holy man, as the simulated magic arts of Simon
is not ascribed to Philip. Meanwhile, the detestable wickedness of the
Meletians increased beyond measure; and the blessed Peter, fearing lest
the plague of heresy should spread over the whole flock committed to his
care, and knowing that there is no fellowship with light and darkness,
and no concord betwixt Christ and Belial, by letter separated the Meletians
from the communion of the Church. And because an evil disposition cannot
long be concealed, upon that instant the wicked Arius, when he saw his
aiders and abettors cast down from the dignity of the Church, gave way
to sadness and lamentation. This did not escape the notice of this holy
man. For when his hypocrisy was laid bare, immediately using the evangelical
sword, "If thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out and cast it from
thee,"(1) and cutting off Arius from the body of the Church as a putrid
limb, he expelled and banished him from the comreunion of the faithful.

This done, the storm of persecution suddenly abating, peace, although
for a short time, smiled. Then this most choice priest of the Lord shone
manifestly before the people, and the faithful began to run in crowds to
keep the memory of the martyrs, and to assemble in congregations to the
praise of Christ. Whom this priest of the divine law quickened with his
holy eloquence, and so roused and strengthened that the multitude of believers
increased continually in the Church. But the old enemy of salvation of
man did not long remain quiet and look on these things with favouring eyes.
For on a sudden the storm-cloud of paganism gave forth its hostile thunder,
and like a winter shower struck against the serenity of the Church, and
chased it away in flight. But that this may be understood more clearly,
we must necessarily turn back to the atrocities of Diocletian, that impious
one, and rebel against God, and also to Maximian Galerius, who at that
time, with his son Maximin, harassed the regions of the East with his tyrannical
sway.

For in the time of this man the fire of Christian persecution so raged,
that not only in one region of the universe, but even throughout the whole
world, both by land and by sea, the storm of impiety gave forth its thunder.
The imperial edicts and most cruel decrees running hither and thither,
the worshippers of Christ were put to death now openly, and now by clandestine
snares; no day, no night, passed off free from the effusion of Christian
blood. Nor was the type of slaughter of one kind alone; some were slain
with diverse and most bitter tortures; some again, that they might want
the humanity of kinsmen, and burial in their own country, were transported
to other climes, and by certain new machinations of punishment, and as
yet to the age unknown, were driven to the goal of martyrdom. Oh, the horrible
wickedness! So great was their impiety that they even upturned from their
foundations the sanctuaries of divine worship, and burned the sacred books
in the fire. Diocletian of execrable memory having died, Constantinus Major
was elected to administer the kingdom, and in the western parts began to
hold the reins of government.

In these days information was brought to Maximin about the aforesaid archbishop,(2)
that he was a leader and holding chief place among the Christians; and
he, inflamed with his accustomed iniquity, on the instant ordered Peter
to be apprehended and cast into prison. For which purpose he despatched
to Alexandria five tribunes, accompanied with their bands of soldiers,
who, coming thither as they had been commanded, suddenly seized the priest
of Christ and committed him to the custody of a prison. Wonderful was the
devotion of the faithful! When it was known that this holy man was shut
up in the dungeon of the prison, an incredibly large number ran together,
principally a band of monks and of virgins, and with no material arms,
but with rivers of tears and the affection of pious minds. surrounded the
prison's circuit.(3) And as good sons towards a good father, nay, rather
as the Christian members of a most Christian head. adhered to him with
all their bowels of compassion, and were to him as walls, observing that
no pagan might get an opportunity of access to him. One indeed was the
vow of all, one their voice, and one their compassion and resolve to die
rather than see any evil happen to this holy man. Now while the man of
God was being kept for a few days in the same stocks, with his body thrust
back, the tribunes made a suggestion to the king concerning him, but he,
after his ferocious manner, gave his sentence for capitally punishing the
most blessed patriarch. And when this got to the ears of the Christians,
they all with one mind began to guard the approaches to the prison with
groaning and lamentation, and persistently prevented any Gentile from obtaining
access to him. And when the tribunes could by no means approach him to
put him to death, they held a council, and determined that the soldiers
should with drawn swords break in upon the crowd of people, and so draw
him forth to behead him; and if any one opposed, he should be put to death.

Arius,
in the meanwhile, having as yet been endowed only with the dignity of
a Levite,(1) and
fearing
lest, after the death of so great a father,
he should noways be able to get reconciled to the Church, came to those
who held the chief place amongst the clergy, and, hypocrite that he was,
by his sorrowful entreaties and plausible discourse, endeavoured to persuade
the holy archbishop to extend to him his compassion, and to release him
from the ban of excommunication. But what is more deceptive than a feigned
heart? What more simple than a holy composure? There was no delay; those
who had been requested went in to the priest of Christ, and, after the
customary oration, prostrating themselves on the ground, and with groans
and tears kissing his sacred hands, implored him, saying: "Thee, indeed,
most blessed father, for the excellence of thy faith, the Lord hath called
to receive the martyr's crown, which we noways doubt does quickly await
thee. Therefore do we think it right that, with thy accustomed piety, thou
shouldest. pardon Arius. and extend thy indulgence to his lamentations."

Upon
hearing this the man of God, moved with indignation, put them aside,
and, raising
his hands to
heaven, exclaimed: "Do ye dare to supplicate
me on behalf of Arius? Arius, both here and in the future world, will always
remain banished and separate from the glory of the Son of God, Jesus Christ
our Lord."(2) He thus protesting, all who were present, being struck
with terror, like men dumb, kept silence. Moreover they suspected that
he, not without some divine notification,(3) gave forth such a sentence
against Arius. But when the merciful father beheld them silent and sad
from compunction of heart, he would not persist in austerity, or leave
them, as if in contempt, without satisfaction; but taking Achillas and
Alexander, who amongst the priests appeared to be the eiders and the most
holy, having one of them at ibis right hand, and the other on his left,
he separated them a little from the rest, and at the end of his discourse
said to them: "Do not, my brethren, take me for a man inhuman and
stern; for indeed I too am living under the law of sin; but believe my
words. The hidden treachery of Arias surpasses all iniquity and impiety,
and not asserting this of mine own self, have I sanctioned his excommunication.
For in this night, whilst I was solemnly pouring forth my prayers to God,
there stood by me a boy of about twelve years, the brightness of whose
face I could not endure, for this whole cell in which we stand was radiant
with a great light. He was clothed with a linen tunic(4) divided into two
parts, from the neck to the feet, and holding in his two hands the rents
of the tunic, he applied them to his breast to cover his nudity. At this
vision I was stupefied with astonishment. And when boldness of speech was
given to me, I exclaimed: Lord, who hath rent thy tunic? Then said he,
Arius hath rent it, and by all means beware of receiving him into communion;
behold, to-morrow they will come to entreat you for him. See, therefore,
that thou be not persuaded to acquiesce: nay, rather lay thy commands upon
Achillas and Alexander the priests, who after thy translation will rule
my Church, not by any means to receive him. Thou shall very quickly fulfil
the lot of the martyr. Now there was no other cause of this vision. So
now I have satisfied you, and I have declared unto you what I was ordered.
But what you will do in consequence of this, must be your own care." Thus
much concerning Arius.

He
continued: "Ye
know too, beloved, and ye know well, what has been the manner of my conversation
amongst you, and what conflicts I have endured
from the idolatrous Gentiles, who, being ignorant of the Lord and Saviour,
do not cease in their madness to spread abroad the fame of a multitude
of gods who are no gods. Ye know likewise how, in avoiding the rage of
my persecutors, I wandered an exile from place to place. For long time
I lay in hiding in Mesopotamia, and also in Syria amongst the Phoenicians;
in either Palestine also I had for a long time to wander: and from thence,
if I may so say, in another clement, that is, in the islands, I tarried
no short time. Yet in the midst of all, these calamities I did not cease
day and night writing to the Lord's flock committed to my; poor care, and
confirming them in the unity of Christ. For an anxious solicitude for them
constantly kept urging my heart, and suffered me not to rest; then only
did I think it to be more tolerable to me when I committed them to the
Power above.

"Likewise
also, on account of those fortunate prelates, Phileus, I mean, Hesychius
and
Theodorus,
who of divine grace have received a worthy
vocation, what great tribulation agitated my mind. For these, as ye know,
for the faith of Christ were with the rest of the confessors wasted with
diverse torments. And because in such a conflict they were not only of
the clergy but of the laity also the standard-bearers and preceptors, I
on this account greatly feared lest they should be found wanting under
their long affliction, and lest their defection, which is terrible to speak
of, should be to many an occasion of stumbling and of denying the faith,
for there were more than six hundred and sixty confined along with them
within the precincts of a dungeon. Hence, although oppressed with great
labour and toil, I ceased not to write to them with reference to all those
predicted passages,(1) exhorting them to earn the martyr's palm with the
power of divine inspiration. But when I heard of their magnificent perseverance,
and the glorious end of the passion of them all, falling on the ground
I adored the majesty of Christ, who had thought tit to count them amongst
the throng of the martyrs.

"Why
should I speak to you about Meletius of Lycopolis? What persecutions,
what treachery,
he
directed against me, I doubt not but that ye well know.
Oh, the horrible wickedness! he feared not to rend asunder the holy Church,
which the Son of God redeemed with His precious blood, and to deliver which
from the tyranny of the devil He hesitated not to lay down His life. This
Church, as I have begin to say, the wicked Meletius rending asunder, ceased
not to imprison in dungeons, and to afflict holy bishops even, who have
a little before us by martyrdom penetrated to the heavens. Beware therefore
of his insidious devices. For I, as ye see, go bound by divine charity,
preferring above all things the will of God. I know, indeed, that under
their breath the tribunes whisper of my death with eager haste; but I will
not from this circumstance open any communication with them, nor will I
count my life more precious than myself. Nay, rather, I am prepared to
finish the course which my Lord Jesus Christ hath deigned to promise to
me, and faithfully render up to Him the ministry which from Him I have
received. Pray for me, my brothers; you will not see me longer living in
this life with you. Wherefore I testify before God and your brotherhood,
that before all of you have I preserved a clean conscience. For I have
not shunned to declare unto you the injunctions of the Lord, and I have
refused not to make known to you the things which will hereafter be necessary.

"Wherefore take heed unto yourselves, and the whole flock over which
the Holy, Ghost has appointed you as overseers in succession--thee Achillas
in the first place, and next to thee Alexander. Behold with living voice
I protest to you, that after my death men will arise in the Church speaking
perverse things,(2) and will again divide it, like Meletius, drawing away
the people after their readiness. So I have told you before. But I pray
you, mine own bowels, be watchful; for ye must undergo many tribulations.
For we are no better than our fathers. Are ye ignorant what things my father
endured from the Gentiles, he who brought me up, the most holy bishop Theonas,
whose pontifical(3) chair I have under taken to fill? Would that I had
his manners also! Why too should speak of the great Dionysius his predecessor.
who wandering from place to place sustained many calamities from the frantic
Sabellius? Nor will I omit to mention you, ye most holy fathers and high
priests of the divine law, Heraclius and Demetrius, for whom Origen, that
framer of a perverse dogma, laid many temptations, who cast upon the Church
a detestable schism, which to this day is throwing it into confusion. But
the grace of God which then protected them, will, I believe, protect you
also. But why do I delay you longer, my very clear brethren, with the outpouring
of my prolix discourse. It remains, that with the last words of the Apostle(4)
who thus prayed I address you: 'And now I commend you to God and the word
of His grace, which is powerful to direct both you and His flock.'" When
he had finished, failing on his knees, he prayed with them. And his speech
ended, Achillas and Alexander kissing his hands and feet and bursting into
tears sobbed bitterly, specially grieving at those words of his which they
heard when he said that they should henceforth see him in this life no
more. Then this most gentle teacher going to the rest of the clergy, who,
as I have said, had come in to him to speak in behalf of Arius, spake to
them his last consoling words, and such as were necessary; then pouring
forth his prayers to God, and bidding them adieu, he dismissed them all
in peace.[1]

These things having thus ended, it was everywhere published far and wide
that Arius had not been cut off from the Catholic unity without a divine
interposition. But that coatriver of deceit, and disseminator of all wickedness,
ceased not to keep hidden his viper's poison in the labyrinth of his bosom,
hoping that he should be reconciled by Achillas and Alexander. This is
that Arius the heresiarch, the divider of the consubstantial and indivisible
Trinity. This is he who with rash and wicked mouth, was not afraid to blaspheme
the Lord and Saviour, beyond all other heretics; the Lord, I say, and Saviour,
who out of pity for our human wanderings, and being sorely grieved that
the world should perish in deadly destruction and condemnation, deigned
for us all to suffer in the flesh. For it is not to be believed that the
Godhead which is impassible was subject to the passion. But because the
theologians and fathers have taken care in better style to remove from
Catholic ears the blasphemies of this nature, and another task is ours,
let us return to our subject.

This
most sagacious pontiff[2] then, perceiving the cruel device of the tribunes,
who, in
order to bring
about his death, were willing to put to
the sword the whole Christian multitude that was present, was unwilling
that they should together with him taste the bitterness of death, but as
a faithful servant imitating his Lord and Saviour, whose acts were even
as his words, "The good Shepherd giveth His life for the sheep,"[3]
prompted by his piety, called to him an elder of those who there waited
on his words, and said to him: "Go to the tribunes who seek to kill
me, and say to them, Cease ye from all your anxiety, lo! I am ready and
willing of mine own accord to give myself to them" Bid them come this
night to the rereward of the house of this prison, and in the spot in which
they shall hear a signal given on the wall from within, there let them
make an excavation, and take me and do with me as they have been commanded.
The eider, obeying the commands of this most holy man,--for so great a
father could not be contradicted,--departed to the tribunes, and made the
intimation to them as he had been commanded. They, when they had received
it, were exceedingly rejoiced, and taking with them some stonemasons, came
about the dawn of the day without their soldiers to the place which had
been pointed out to them. The man of God had passed the whole night as
a vigil, without sleep, in prayer and watchfulness. But when he heard their
approach, whilst all who were with him were rapt in slumber, with a slow
and gentle step he descended to the interior part of the prison, and according
to the agreement made, made a sound on the wall; and those outside hearing
this, forcing an aperture, received this athlete of Christ armed on all
sides with no brazen breastplate, but with the virtue of the cross of the
Lord, and fully prepared to carry out the Lord's words who said, "Fear
not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather
fear Him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell."[4]
Wonderful was the occurrence! Such a heavy whirlwind of wind and rain prevailed
during that night, that no one of those who kept the door of the prison
court hear the sound of the excavation. This martyr most constant too,
kept urging on his murderers, saying, Do what ye are about to do, before
those are aware who are guarding me.

But
they took him up and brought him to the place called Bucolia, where the
holy St. Mark
underwent martyrdom
for Christ. Astonishing is the virtue
of the saints! As they carried him along, and beheld his great constancy
and strength of mind when in peril of death, on a sudden a fear and trembling
came upon them to such a degree, that none of them could look stedfastly
into his face. Moreover, the blessed martyr entreated them to allow him
to go to the tomb of St. Mark, for be desired to commend himself to his
patronage.[5] But they from confusion, looking down on the ground, said, "Do
as yon wish, but make haste." Therefore approaching the burial-place
of the evangelist, he embraced it, and speaking to him as if he were yet
alive in the flesh, and able to hear him, he prayed after this manner: "O
father most honourable, thou evangelist of the only-begotten Saviour, thou
witness of His passion, thee did Christ choose, who is the Deliverer of
us all, to be the first pontiff and pillar of this See; to thee did He
commit the task of proclaiming the faith throughout the whole of Egypt
and its boundaries. Thou, I say, hast watchfully fulfilled that ministry
of our human salvation which was intrusted to thee; as the reward of this
labour thou hast doubtless obtained the martyr's palm. Hence, not without
justice, art thou counted worthy to be saluted evangelist and bishop. Thy
successor was Anianus, and the rest in descending series down to the most
blessed Theonas, who disciplined my infancy, and deigned to educate my
heart. To whom I, a sinner and unworthy, have been beyond my deservings
appointed as successor by an hereditary descent. And, what is best of all,
lo! the largeness of the divine bounty has granted me to become a martyr
of His precious cross and joyful resurrection, giving to my devotion the
sweet and pleasant odour of His passion, that I should be made meet to
pour out unto Him the offering of my blood. And because the time of making
this offering is now instant, pray for me that, the divine power assisting
me, I may be meet to reach the goal of this agony with a stout heart and
ready faith. I commend also to thy glorious patronage the flock of Christ's
worshippers which was committed to my pastoral care; to thee, I say, I
with prayers commend it, who are approved as the author and guardian of
all preceding and subsequent occupiers of this pontifical chair, and who,
holding its first honours, art the successor not of man, but of the God-man,
Christ Jesus." Saying these words,[1] he went back to a little distance
from the sacred tomb, and, raising his hands to heaven, prayed with a loud
voice, saying: "O thou Only-begotten, Jesus Christ, Word of the Eternal
Father, hear me invoking Thy clemency. Speak peace, I beseech Thee, to
the tempest that shakes Thy Church, and with the effusion of my blood,
who am Thy servant, make an end to the persecution of Thy people." Then
a certain virgin dedicated to God, who had her cell adjoining to the tomb
of the evangelist, as she was spending the night in prayer, heard a voice
from heaven, saying: "Peter was the first of the apostles, Peter is
the last of the martyred bishops of Alexandria."

Having
ended his prayer, he kissed the tomb of the blessed evangelist, and of
the other pontiffs
who were buried there, and went forth to the
tribunes. But they seeing his face as it had been the face of an angel,
being terror-stricken, feared to speak to him of his instant agony. Nevertheless,
because God does not desert those who trust in Him, He willed not to leave
His martyr without consolation in the moment of so great a trial. For lo!
an old man and an aged virgin, coming from the smaller towns, were hastening
to the city, one of whom was carrying Four skins for sale, and the other
two sheets of linen. The blessed prelate, when he perceived them, recognised
a divine dispensation with reference to himself. He inquired of them on
the instant, "Are ye Christians?" And they replied, "Yes." Then
said he, "Whither are ye going?" And they replied, "To the
market in the city to sell these things that we are carrying." Then
the most merciful father answered, "My faithful children, God has
marked you out, persevere with me." And they immediately recognising
him, said, "Sire, let it be as thou hast commanded." Then turning
to the tribunes, he said, "Come, do what ye are about to do, and fulfil
the king's command; for the day is now on the point of breaking."[2]
But they, suffering violence as it were on account of the wicked decree
of the prince, brought him to a spot opposite to the sanctuary of the evangelist,
into a valley near the tombs. Then said the holy man, "Spread out,
thou aged man, the skins which thou carriest, and thou too, O aged woman,
the linen sheets."[3] And when they had been spread out, this most
constant martyr, mounting upon them, extended both his hands to heaven,
and bending his knees on the ground, and fixing his mind upon heaven, returned
his thanks to the Almighty Judge[4] of the contest, and fortifying himself
with the sign of the cross, said, Amen. Then loosening his omophorion[5]
from his neck, he stretched it forth, saying, "What is commanded you,
do speedily."

Meanwhile the hands of the tribunes were paralyzed, and looking upon one
another in turn, each urged his fellow to the deed, but they were all held
fast with astonishment and fear. At length they agreed that out of their
common stock a reward for the execution should be appointed, and that the
man who should venture to perpetrate the murder should enjoy the reward.
There was no delay, each of them brought forth five solidi.[6] But, as
says the heathen poet,--

"Quid
non mortalia pectora cogis,

Auri
sacra lames?" [1]

one of them, after the manner of the traitor Judas, emboldened by the
desire of money, drew his sword and beheaded the pontiff, on the 25th day
of November, after he had held the pontificate twelve years--three of which
were before the persecution, but the nine remaining were passed by him
under persecutions of diverse kinds. The blood-money being instantly claimed
by the executioner, these wicked purchasers, or rather destroyers, of man's
life quickly returned, for they feared the multitude of the people, since,
as I have said, they were without their military escort. But the body of
the blessed martyr, as the fathers affirm who went first to the place of
execution, remained erect, as if instant in prayer, until many people,
coming together, discovered it standing[2] in the same posture; so that
what was his constant practice whilst living, to this his inanimate body
testified. They found also the aged man and woman watching with grief and
lamentation the most precious relic of the Church. So, honouring him with
a triumphal funeral, they covered his body with the linen sheets; but the
sacred blood which had been poured forth, they collected reverently in
a wallet.

In
the meanwhile an innumerable multitude of either sex, flocking together
from the populous
city, with
groans and ejaculations asked each other in
turn, being ignorant, in what manner this had happened. In truth, from
the least to the greatest, a very great grief was prevalent amongst all.
For when the chief men of the city beheld the laudable importunity of the
multitude, who were busied in dividing his sacred spoils to keep them as
relics, they wrapped him up the tighter in the skins and linen sheets.
For the most holy minister of God was always clothed in sacerdotal vestments
of a white colour[3]--that is, with the tunic, the kolobion, and the omophorion.
Then there arose among them no small contention; for some were for carrying
the most sacred limbs to the church which he had himself built, and where
he now rests. but others were endeavouring to carry him to the sanctuary
of the evangelist, where he attained the goal of martyrdom; and since neither
party would yield to the other, they began to turn their religious observance
into a wrangling and a right.[4] In the meanwhile a spirited body of senators
of those who are en gaged in the public transport service, seeing what
had happened, for they were near the sea, prepared a boat, and suddenly
seizing upon the sacred relics, they placed them in it, and scaling the
Pharos from behind, by a quarter which has the name of Leucado, they came
to the church of the most blessed mother of God, and Ever-Virgin Mary,
which, as we began to say, he had constructed in the western quarter, in
a suburb, for a cemetery of the martyrs. Thereupon the throng of the people,
as if the heavenly treasure had been snatched from them, some by straight
roads, and others by a more devious route, followed with hasty steps• And
when they at length arrived there, there was no longer any altercation
where he was to be placed, but by a common and unimpeachable counsel they
agreed first to place him in his episcopal chair, and then to bury him.

And
this, most prudent reader, I would not have you regard as a wild fancy
and superstition,
since,
if you learn the cause of this novelty, you will
admire and approve of the zeal and deed of the populace. For this blessed
priest, when he celebrated the sacrament of the divine mysteries, did not,
as is the ecclesiastical custom, sit upon his pontifical throne, but upon
its footstool underneath, which, when the people beheld, they disliked,
and complainingly exclaimed, "Thou oughtest, O father, to sit upon
thy chair;" and when they repeated this frequently, the minister of
the Lord rising, calmed their complaints with tranquil voice, and again
took his seat upon the same stool. So all this seemed to be done by him
from motives of humility. But upon a certain great festival it happened
that he was offering the sacrifice of the mass,[5] and wished to do this
same thing. Thereupon, not only the people. but the clergy also, exclaimed
with one voice, "'Fake thy seat upon thy chair, bishop." But
he, as if conscious of a mystery, reigned not to bear this; and giving
the signal for silence,--for no one dared pertinaciously to withstand him,--he
made them all quiet, and yet, nevertheless, sat down on the footstool of
the chair; and the solemnities of the mass[6] having been celebrated as
usual, each one of the faithful returned to his own home.

But
the man of God sending for the clergy. with tranquil and serene mind,
charged them with
rashness,
saying, "How is it that ye blush not for
having joined the cry of the laity, and reproaching me? Howbeit. since
your reproach flows not from the muddy torrent of arrogance. but from the
pure fountain of love, I will unfold to you the secret of this mystery.
Very often when I wish to draw near to that seat, I see a virtue as it
were sitting upon it, exceeding radiant with the brightness of its light.
Then, being in suspense between joy and fear, I acknowledge that I am altogether
unworthy to sit upon such a seat, and if I did not hesitate to cause an
occasion of offence to the people, without doubt I should not even venture
to sit upon the stool itself. Thus it is, my beloved sons, that I seem
to you, in this, to ,transgress the pontifical rule.[1] Nevertheless, many
times when I see it vacant, as ye yourselves are witnesses, I refuse not
to sit upon the chair after the accustomed manner. Wherefore do ye, now
that ye are acquainted with my secret, and being well assured that, if
I shall be indulged, I will sit upon the chair, for I hold not in slight
esteem the dignity of my order, cease any further from joining in the exclamations
of the populace." This explanation the most holy father whilst he
was yet alive, was compelled to give to the clergy. The faithful of Christ,
therefore, remembering all this with pious devotion, brought his sacred
body, and caused it to sit upon the episcopal throne. As much joy and exultation
arose then to heaven from the people, as if they were attending him alive
and in the body. Then embalming him with sweet spices, they wrapped him
in silken coverings; what each one of them could be the first to bring,
this he accounted to himself as greatest gain. Then carrying palms, the
tokens of victory,. with flaming tapers, with sounding hymns, and with
fragrant incense, celebrating the triumph of his heavenly victory, they
laid down the sacred relics, and buried them in the cemetery which had
been long ago constructed by him, where too from henceforth, and even to
this day, miraculous virtues cease not to show themselves. Pious vows,
forsooth, are received with a propitious hearing; the health of the impotent
is restored; the expulsion of unclean spirits testifies to the martyr's
merits. These gifts, O Lord Jesus, are Thine, whose wont it is thus magnificently
to honour Thy martyrs after death: Thou who with the Father and the Holy
Consubstantial Spirit livest and reignest for evermore. Amen. After this,
how that wolf and framer of treachery, that is Arius, covered with a sheep's
skin, entered into the Lord's fold to worry and torment it, or in what
manner he was enabled to attain to the dignity of the priesthood, let us
employ ourselves in relating in brief,[2] And this not to annoy those who
ventured to recall to the threshing-floor of the Lord those tares of apostacy
and contagion that had been winnowed out of the Church by a heavenly fan
i for these are without doubt reckoned eminent for sanctity, but thinking
it a light thing to believe so holy a a man, they transgressed the injunctions
of the divine command. What then? Do we reprehend them? By no means, For
as long as this corruptible body weighs s down, and this earthly habitation
depresses the sense of our infirmity, many are easily deceived in their
imaginations, and think that which is unjust to be just, that to be holy
which is impure. The Gibeonites who, by the divine threatenings, were to
be utterly destroyed, having one thing in their wishes and another in their
voice and mien, were able quickly to deceive Joshua,[3] that just distributor
of the land of promise. David[4] also, full of prophetic inspiration, when
he had heard the words of the deceitful youth, although it was by the inscrutable
and just judgment of God, yet acted very differently from what the true
nature of the case required. What also can be more sublime than the apostles,
who have not removed themselves from our infirmity? For one of them writes, "In
many things we offend all;"[5] and another, "If we say we have
no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us."[6] But
when we repent of these, so much the more readily do we obtain pardon,
when we have sinned not willingly, but through ignorance or frailty. And
certainly offences of this sort come not of prevarication, but of the indulgence
of compassion. But I leave to others to write an apology for this; let
us pursue what is in hand. After that magnificent defender of the faith,
Peter, worthy of his name, had by the triumph of martyrdom, etc.